The Villainous Male Supporting Character Courts Death Every Day : Chapter 40

So just like that, the ban was lifted?

Happiness came too suddenly, bringing both surprise and fear. So much so that even the mischievous, vicious young master was exceptionally well-behaved that night, not daring to have the butler sleep with him, everything returning to the usual routine.

The night was quiet and still. Milo lay in bed, tossing and turning, unable to sleep.

The bedroom, reunited with after a long absence, every sight and object was extremely familiar, yet he always felt somewhat unaccustomed. As if something was missing… something warm… a heater? A pillow? His lover?

Milo wrinkled his nose, grabbed a large pillow, and roughed it up with random clawing and fierce abuse. He would never admit that he was not used to Kyle not sleeping beside him.

It was definitely this bed that was no good. Yes, the bedsheet material was wrong too. It was almost autumn, why were they still using tencel sheets? Were they trying to freeze him to death?

Milo reached out angrily to ring the servant’s bell, then suddenly froze. Disturbing others in the middle of the night made him instinctively feel a bit guilty. He withdrew his hand, tossed and turned on the bed, rolling back and forth, and finally sat up with a bounce, walking out of the room.

That guy is definitely up to no good behind my back. I might as well go see what he is up to.

Thinking this, the young master did not light a lamp, did not put on shoes, and stepped barefoot onto the thick carpet, quietly slipping to the side room next door.

It was already the middle of the night. The long corridor was silent, a few strands of moonlight falling through the window gaps, half bright and half dark. Milo pressed himself sneakily against Kyle’s door. Inside was completely silent, and the gap at the bottom of the door was pitch black. He figured Kyle had already fallen asleep.

Milo hesitated for a moment, nervously sucked in a breath, his hands clutching at his chest, and gently pushed open the door. The room was completely dark. His eyes adjusted to the darkness for a while before he could barely make out the outlines inside. The room was not large, the furnishings simple: a desk, a few cabinets, and a not very large single bed against the wall.

Milo’s gaze moved. Holding his breath, he stepped inside, tiptoeing toward the bed, turning the stride of a room inspection into the stealth of a thief.

The man lay on his back in bed, the blanket slipped to his waist, his upper body half naked, the lines of his muscles fully visible, faintly discernible in the darkness, rising and falling slightly with his breathing.

Milo swallowed. On ordinary days, even when sleeping with him, Kyle always wore pajamas. When had he ever been so casual? Probably back in his own room sleeping alone, he let loose and slept so comfortably. How hateful.

And here the young master was so cold he could not sleep, while this guy was so hot he did not wear clothes. What kind of sense did that make? Milo cursed in his heart, yet his gaze could not help lingering over that firm body.

Broad shoulders, tight waist, a thick and full chest, clearly defined abdominal muscles, excessively distinct. The line of his side waist slanted downward, disappearing under the blanket, carrying an alluring curve.

If he touched it, he could still feel that resilient strength…

Just as Milo’s mind was wandering, he suddenly collided with a pair of clear black eyes, and his whole body jumped in fright.

“Young master?” Kyle’s voice was low, carrying the hoarseness of just waking, seeming somewhat surprised.

Milo’s heart tightened, his face flushed red, panicking so much he nearly exploded. He struck first: “Your bed is no good, it makes me sleep terribly.”

A silence fell in the darkness, whether from lingering drowsiness or still processing the young master’s unreasonable fuss. After a moment, Kyle said: “Let me go see.”

Saying this, he was about to sit up, but the young master took the chance to crawl onto the bed at once and burrow under the blanket. The familiar temperature, the familiar scent, instantly enveloped him. Milo let out a satisfied hum, his eyes narrowing, curling into a ball.

“Young master?” With the young master blocking the outer side like this, the path was directly cut off. Kyle could not even get out of bed, and his whole body was squeezed inward by a large margin.

“Your spot here is more comfortable. I knew you kept the good stuff for yourself.” Milo skillfully put him on trial, yet his head rubbed against the pillow, finding a comfortable position, speaking with righteous confidence: “I want to sleep here. Move inward a bit.”

Kyle was silent for a long while, but he did not move inward. Instead, he turned to the side to tuck in the blanket corner for him, his tone as steady as ever: “Very well, you sleep first, I will go…”

“Don’t move.” Milo interrupted impatiently, his throat emitting a hoarse sound like a low growling cat, softly scolding: “How can I sleep with you moving about? Lie still.”

Probably feeling a bit awkward, Milo turned over, his back to Kyle, but arched his whole back into a ball of heat. The tips of his ears quietly flushed red, and he said in a fierce low voice: “Sleep. I’ll settle accounts with you tomorrow.”

Kyle looked at the young man curled in his arms, his gaze sweeping over the young man’s waistline, and finally lay on his side as well, reaching out to pull the blanket together. In the end, he lightly placed his hand on the young man’s waist.

The young master’s breathing was steady, as if already asleep. Kyle’s arm gathered, pulling the small figure into his embrace. His black eyes half narrowed, like a galaxy rippling across the night sky, points of light flickering in the depths of his eyes, as if he held the entire Milky Way hidden in his arms.

The room was quiet, leaving only their breathing. Yet the breathing grew lower and lower, and the heartbeat grew louder and louder. The temperature under the blanket grew increasingly hot, body heat flowing and accumulating between the two, burning scorching.

“Young master… are you asleep?” The words were very light, like hesitation, like probing. The arm gradually tightened, lightly kissing Milo’s nape, following the hairline to kiss his earlobe, dense and delicate. His fingertips finally slipped under the blanket, caressing the young man’s waist, side, and chest.

Milo did not react, but his breathing gradually grew heavy. Feeling the young man’s body tremble almost imperceptibly, Kyle laughed softly, whispering by his ear: “Young master, are you really asleep?”

Milo sensitively shrank, his eyelashes fluttering fiercely, but he only let out a light hum, his fingertips curling tight, whether pretending not to care or sulking on his own.

“I haven’t pleased you today yet…” Kyle slipped his hand under the hem of Milo’s nightshirt, caressing the smooth thigh, then suddenly sliding upward, grasping the arousal that had quietly risen.

“Ahh…” Milo finally could not help it, crying out, his voice full of uncontainable sweetness and anticipation.

“Young master… keep your voice down…” Kyle began stroking up and down, his fingertips nimbly teasing, now and then sweeping across the sensitive tip. His tongue licked along the inner rim of the ear, his voice hoarse: “You’ll wake the others…”

“You bastard… ahh…” Milo sensitively tucked in his neck, cursing in a low voice, yet his throat emitted unbearable moans. Pleasure surged like a tide, his whole body rippling with scorching numbness. Milo hurriedly reached out to cover his mouth, trembling faintly.

“The young master is wonderful…” Seeing Milo’s appearance of being consumed by desire, the man’s smile deepened. He rewarded him with a light bite on the earlobe, and the rhythm of his hand grew faster. The arousal quickly swelled and burned.

Milo’s face was flushed with red tide, his golden eyes misty with moisture. Tensing one moment, going soft the next, his breathing rapid, whimpering softly, gradually curling into a ball, his lower body standing tall and proud.

“Doesn’t the young master want it?” Feeling the young man’s evasion, the stroking hand made as if to leave, but stopped at the tip, two fingers pinching the tender head, pressing lightly.

Milo gasped, jerking backward, crashing into the man’s thick chest, his waist arching up, unable to escape the fingertip’s teasing. The man’s touch was extremely light, like a feather scratching, like fine raindrops falling, a pinch and a press, yet each stirred a thousand waves.

“Mmm… mmm…” His face crimson, his brow tightly furrowed, Milo felt as if all the nerves in his body had concentrated at the tip, clearly feeling that caress like fine silk and light rain. With every squeeze, the opening responded by oozing a bit of fluid, like a hungry little mouth.

“Does the young master want it?” Kyle asked softly, his fingers smeared with the fluid, coating the entire head.

At this point with the arrow on the bowstring, he was still asking such questions. Milo’s whole body was taut, his hands desperately covering his mouth, afraid that with one slip he would moan out loud. He glared at Kyle with annoyance, his golden eyes carrying reproach, his alluring attitude overflowing.

Kyle laughed low, his five fingers nimbly tapping at the tip, each strike seeming to slice across Milo’s forehead, making his whole body shudder with electricity. Yet Kyle whispered hoarsely: “If the young master wants it… spread your legs…”

Milo was so angry he wanted to scratch someone. His lower body was swollen to the limit, desire burning his body, and this disobedient male lead was still putting on airs? He immediately lifted his left leg and kicked backward.

Kyle smoothly caught it, pressing the white thigh against the outside of his own thigh. He lifted the thin blanket and pushed the young man’s nightshirt up to his waist, exposing the standing arousal completely to the air: “The young master is so good…”

Milo was about to curse when a fingertip suddenly tapped the opening. Milo jerked sharply. Before he could react, his whole body was gathered into the man’s embrace. Kyle used both hands, one wrapping around the arousal and stroking up and down, the other continuously rubbing the opening, skillfully stimulating more fluid.

While admiring Milo’s face twisted with lust, he quickened his hand movements, smearing the fluid onto the shaft, the base, and the sac, the entire swollen length glistening brightly. Kyle bit his ear and laughed low: “Young master, so much is flowing out…”

“Mmm…” Milo still covered his mouth, his whole body shuddering, thrusting continuously, as if evading, yet as if welcoming. His snow-white skin broke out in a thin layer of sweat, his whole body crystal clear and translucent. His left leg kicked and struggled against the man’s thigh, venting the excessive pleasure.

Yet the man played it like a flower, his movements unceasing, sometimes gentle, sometimes fierce. Sometimes using the thick palm to soothe the tip, or using rough sword calluses to scrape the opening, his fingertips now and then scratching and tapping at the weeping little mouth.

Enjoying the young man’s trembling in his arms, his black eyes half narrowed, showing extreme pleasure: “Young master, does it feel good?”

By now Milo was already lost in lust. The intense pleasure made him shrink backward, rubbing against the man’s body and twisting, his buttocks grinding against the hard arousal. Kyle let out a sigh, yet his hand movements did not pause in the slightest, instead growing even more fierce.

One hand stroked the arousal, the other kneaded the sac, tossing the swollen orbs back and forth, tossing Milo into continuous waves of passion, his eyes half rolled back. His fingertips slowly slid, coated with fluid, back and forth across the folds of the bud, circling around the tender pink.

“Where are you touching?” Milo suddenly grew alert, releasing his mouth and lifting his head to hiss: “I said not to… mmm!” Before he finished speaking, he was sealed with a kiss.

His fingertip scratched at the bud, teasing the petals to open and close. The desire in his black eyes nearly overflowed. His tongue stirred and swept through the sweet depths, hooking the pink tongue in play, his hand stroking without pause. Taking advantage of Milo’s lost entanglement in the passionate kiss, two fingers plunged deep inside, probing into the wet heat, pressing on the most sensitive core.

“Mmm!” Milo jumped in shock, yet was suppressed by the man. His moans were all swallowed into the mouth, his tongue hooked and toyed with, his desire stroked without end, the sensitivity in his rear pressed and rubbed repeatedly.

He both loved and feared the prostate stimulation. That kind of penetrating pleasure always made him lose control and go mad. Yet the man had a special fondness for it, seizing every chance to poke there, training the tender soft core to be exceptionally sensitive.

Milo’s whole body twitched as if electrified, his eyes half rolled back, as if colorful fireworks were exploding in his mind. Instantly unable to think, like a fish out of water, instinctively twitching, yet intensifying the invasion and stimulation from front and back.

The man pressed down without question, deepening the kiss while his hand movements grew even more fierce, as if deliberately fanning flames to the sky, waves overturning, completely drowning and devouring the young man.

“Mmm mmm!” Waves rolled, stars flashed. Milo twisted his waist and swayed his hips in the pincer attack, hot sweat pouring down, his soft buttocks rubbing back and forth against the fierce heated weapon. The man grew even harder, more excited.

He bent his left knee, spreading the young man’s left leg wide open, the vulnerable area between his legs fully and unreservedly exposed, the twitching arousal, the two soft and springy sacs, all left to his flying hands to toy with at will.

The fingers in his rear grew even greedier and more enterprising, pressing against the sensitive spot, massaging in grinding circles, or rapidly thrusting, dense finger strikes.

“Mmm!!!” His golden eyes rolled back white, his throat rolling. If the man were not biting his lips, the young man would definitely have screamed out loud. The pleasure at the tip raced like electric currents, deep inside his body flames churned, heat waves crossing, lightning and thunder.

Milo suddenly arched, white fluid gushing out.